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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241688">Santa baby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup'>sdwolfpup</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, yes the elf helper is sansa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne tells Santa what she really wants for Christmas. Can he work a little Christmas magic to get it for her?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>JB Festive Festival Exchange Stocking Stuffers 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Santa baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicienneOfTarth/gifts">AlicienneOfTarth</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alicienne, I was skimming Festive prompts and saw you had asked for Fluff (and smut, which I unfortunately didn't include) and modern AU. You've left me some lovely comments and I really appreciate it; I hope you enjoy this!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I'll break him.”</p>
<p>Margaery snorted. “He's not made out of styrofoam, Brienne.”</p>
<p>“It doesn't matter. I'm far too big. And far too old. And you can't make me.” Brienne knew she sounded like a toddler on the last, but it was warranted. </p>
<p>“I'm gonna do it,” Margaery said. “You have to come with me.” </p>
<p>Brienne eyed the mall Santa sitting and 'ho-ho-ho-ing' at the young child in his lap. He looked sturdy enough, though with the padding she supposed anyone would look bulky in the outfit. “Why can't I just stand in line and give you moral support? Why do I have to sit on his lap, too? Why are you sitting on his lap in the first place?” </p>
<p>“I told you,” Margaery said, grabbing her hand and tugging Brienne into the line. “I never had the mall Santa experience as a kid. Grandmama always brought in some very expensive, very droll Saint Nicholas to hand out very proper gifts. I want to sit in some smelly man's lap and get a candy cane.”</p>
<p>“You could just go to a bar for that,” Brienne muttered, and Margaery laughed gaily, just like she did everything in life. She might as well stream bubbles behind her when she walked. Brienne sometimes still wondered how their circles ever intersected, but for all their differences – physical and otherwise – she couldn't imagine not having the shared Venn diagram with her best friend. </p>
<p>They got in line behind a woman shushing a baby and trying to corral a rambunctious toddler. Neither was going very well. Another woman with an older, thankfully quieter child, got into line behind them. She gave Brienne and Margaery a judging look. </p>
<p>“So,” Margaery said, raising her voice over the noise. “How's the Jaime Situation going?”</p>
<p>Brienne narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Is this why you wanted me to come with you? To trap me somewhere to talk about this?” </p>
<p>“I'm hurt you would think that of me.” Margaery smiled sweetly up at her. “But since we do have all this time and nowhere to go...” </p>
<p>“I don't want to talk about the Jaime Situation.” </p>
<p>Margaery linked her arm through Brienne's. “You haven't told him, huh?”</p>
<p>“Why would I tell him? He's been so busy with work and then he's going back home for Christmas. This isn't the right time.” To be fair, there was no right time to tell her roommate she was in love with him. <i>Never</i> was the only appropriate time for that. “Maybe at New Year's.” </p>
<p>Margaery shook her head. “Before he leaves is the perfect time to tell him. That way if he doesn't feel the same, you have the distance already set.” </p>
<p>Brienne slumped. “That's what I'm afraid of. That he'll go and the space will make it worse and then he'll come back and move out and I lose him as a friend, too.” </p>
<p>“Brienne.” Margaery squeezed her arm. The line shuffled forward. “If you told me you were in love with me, I would do freaking cartwheels.” </p>
<p>“You're not Jaime,” Brienne said, ducking her head. </p>
<p>“In this one instance, I wish I was.” Margaery's eyes were round and sincere. “Even if you'd told me and I – for some insane reason – didn't return the feeling, I'd still care about you enough that I wouldn't want to lose your friendship. Don't you think Jaime feels the same?” </p>
<p>Brienne thought about her aggravating, wonderful roommate, the man who'd literally stumbled into her life four years ago when she'd been posting an ad looking for a roommate her senior year of college and he'd fallen at her feet. </p>
<p>That had not, unfortunately, been metaphorical. </p>
<p>She'd seen him around the quad before – of course she had, <i>everyone</i> at their small private college knew Jaime Lannister and his Band of Merrymakers – but they'd barely exchanged a full sentence with each other. That afternoon, he hadn't been paying attention and had tripped over something (“a rabid squirrel,” he insisted when retelling the tale now; “his own ego,” as Brienne told it), and hurt himself. She couldn't leave him lying there bleeding, so she'd helped him up and to the Health office, grabbed supplies and cleaned the wound on his surprisingly shapely knee. </p>
<p>While she'd done that, he'd asked her a million questions, which had been how he'd discovered she was looking for a roommate. Brienne had insisted he take a slip with her number and go through the interview process. He'd been the only one who had, and they'd been rooming together since. </p>
<p>She only discovered much later that that afternoon he'd taken down her entire posting after she'd left him alone; she was already half-in-love with him when he confessed it, which may have been the only thing that saved him. </p>
<p>In the time since that sunny afternoon, Brienne and Jaime have fought and laughed and fought and competed and fought and bonded with each other. Jaime had been there for her when her dad had gotten very ill two years ago and she'd had to hurry home to be with him. She'd been there for Jaime last year when his father had cut him off from the Lannister cash flow. They'd cared for each other when they were sick, they'd spent Saturday nights in pajamas watching movies, they'd cheered each other on at good dates and cheered each other up after bad ones. </p>
<p>It was the best relationship Brienne had ever had, and they weren't actually dating. Not that her body, or, eventually, her heart knew the difference. And now she was in love with him, because there was nothing more Brienne Tarth-like than falling for someone she absolutely should not. </p>
<p>She'd blurted the whole sorry mess out to Margaery a month ago, when Jaime had brought Brienne a muffin to work because he'd noted she'd been running late and had skipped breakfast. Margaery had been pushing her to tell him since then, but Brienne had resisted with every last ounce of her very tall body. </p>
<p>She was not going to give in before the holiday. Brienne had decided to just enjoy the end of the year between themselves like normal, and then in the new year she would make a resolution to tell him, when she had time to take off work for moping and finding a new place to live after he turned her down. </p>
<p>“You can ignore me all you want,” Margaery was saying, “but you're not going to be able to ignore your feelings forever.” </p>
<p>“Maybe they'll go away if I do.” Even she didn't believe that. </p>
<p>They were next in line for Santa now, and Margaery patted her hand. “You're so naive for someone so wonderful.” </p>
<p>“Part of my charm, I suppose,” Brienne mumbled. “Do you want to go first or me?”</p>
<p>“I do, in case Santa says something that makes you punch him.” </p>
<p>“That was <i>one time</i>,” Brienne said, indignant. “And that jerk Connington deserved it.”  </p>
<p>Margaery lifted an eyebrow. “Still. I'll go first. But you better not chicken out. Don't let me down here, Brie.”</p>
<p>“Next!” chirped the slender, red-haired elf helping Santa. When she saw Margaery, she went owl-eyed. “Do you have a child with you?” </p>
<p>“Just my inner child,” Margaery said, sending the elf helper one of her movie star smiles. The elf's cheeks went prettily pink. “There's no age limit, is there?”</p>
<p>“No, you're fine. Although you can sit next to Santa if you want, not on his lap.” </p>
<p>“I want the whole shebang – lap-sitting, candy cane, terrible photo.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I'm sure you'd never take a terrible photo,” the elf said, and Margaery eyed her with a look Brienne was very familiar with. </p>
<p>“You think so? What's your name, lovely elf girl?”</p>
<p>“Margaery,” Brienne hissed. “Don't hit on Santa's elves. There are <i>children</i> here.” </p>
<p>Margaery rolled her eyes but she said, “Why don't we talk after the photo?” and the elf nodded, tucking a perfect loose curl of hair behind her ear. Leave it to Margaery to charm a mall elf. Brienne watched her friend walk down the fake snow-covered path to the small, three-sided house set where Santa sat in a large chair, waiting. He was a decent-looking Santa – the beard and hair were obviously fake, and so was the belly, but his outfit looked soft and when he boomed out, “Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas, young lady!” his voice was warm and welcoming. It reminded her of Jaime, when he'd greet her after work every day, always so happy to see her. He'd been more busy than usual lately, and she missed seeing him when she stepped in the door. </p>
<p>Brienne sighed. The Jaime Situation was escalating to a Jaime Disaster, if she was thinking about him because of a mall Santa. </p>
<p>Margaery sat down on Santa's lap, and she looked perfectly sized for it. <i>I bet he loves having her there</i>, Brienne thought mournfully. Anyone would. </p>
<p>“What do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked.</p>
<p>“I could really use a new boss.” </p>
<p>“I'll see what I can do,” Santa said, and Margaery looked at him strangely. “Anything else?”</p>
<p>“A girlfriend.” Margaery glanced over at the elf, who was standing behind the camera. Brienne couldn't see her face, but she'd seen plenty of women fall to Margaery's charms and could easily imagine how she looked. </p>
<p>Santa laughed, a deep, rich sound. When was the last time she'd heard Jaime laugh? He'd been so stressed out the last few weeks when their paths did intersect, though he'd been cagey about saying why. She was beginning to worry he somehow already knew about her secret feelings. <i>I should get him something to cheer him up while we're here</i>, Brienne thought. </p>
<p>“You look like you have that covered,” Santa said. </p>
<p>“Please face the camera and say 'reindeer!',” the elf told them, before taking their photo. “You can pick up your copy at the table on the way out.”</p>
<p>“Where can I pick up your number?” Margaery asked, and Brienne could only chuckle. Her friend was brazen and brave and Brienne adored her completely. </p>
<p>“You can pick that up there, too,” the elf said, and Brienne had to admit, they looked cute smiling at each other. “Next!” </p>
<p>Brienne took a steadying breath, waved off Margaery's mouthed, <i>you better not back out</i>, and walked down the fake snow path to Santa. She could barely even look at him, keeping her eyes mostly on his belly, which wasn't jiggling so much as sitting there full of what was probably a pillow. </p>
<p>“Well, hello,” Santa said, his voice a shockingly deep timbre. She needed to get laid if mall Santa was making her spine tingle. But she hadn't been on a date in months and months. And months. It was a Jaime Catastrophe. </p>
<p>“Hello,” Brienne said softly. </p>
<p>Santa patted his lap. “Have a seat, young lady.” </p>
<p>“I-- I really shouldn't,” Brienne said hesitantly. “I don't want to hurt you.” </p>
<p>“Ho ho ho, I'm strong enough.” He patted his lap again. “Come on now.” </p>
<p>Brienne sighed and, still not even looking at him, she settled herself gingerly across his thighs. They were very firm under her backside. He smelled good, too. Brienne wondered if Margaery had been disappointed by that. </p>
<p>“What do you want for Christmas, young lady?” </p>
<p>She shifted and Santa went tense underneath her. “Sorry,” she said hurriedly.</p>
<p>“No,” Santa said, his voice sounding a little ragged. “You're fine. Just, try to sit still.”</p>
<p>Brienne flushed, embarrassed. This was such a bad idea. How did she let Margaery talk her into these things? </p>
<p>“Now, what do you want?” He sounded normal again. Or as normal as Brienne imagined he sounded. He was obviously doing something weird with his voice to achieve that Santa-esque sound. Up close it reminded her even more of Jaime, and Brienne was regretting this more deeply by the second. She needed to just tell him something and be done with it.  </p>
<p>“I don't know,” she said, sighing. Santa put his hand on her knee and she stared down at the white glove. He had long fingers. </p>
<p>“Surely there's something?” Santa asked. He was a very good Santa; he sounded genuinely interested in what she wanted. </p>
<p>But there was truly only one thing she wanted for Christmas, and even a very good Santa couldn't get her that. What could it hurt to tell him, though? It would be nice for someone else to know, someone who wouldn't be able to hound her about it until her dying day. Maybe there would be such a thing as Christmas magic, for once in her life. </p>
<p>“There is one thing,” Brienne said, tugging at her lip with her teeth. </p>
<p>Santa rubbed her back encouragingly. That seemed a little touchy-feely for a mall Santa, but it felt nice; he was hitting all the spots she liked best. “Yes?” He sounded almost breathless with anticipation. </p>
<p>“There's this... guy.” Santa's hand went still on her back as she started to talk. “If there was anything I could have for Christmas, it would be him.”</p>
<p>Santa cleared his throat. “Ho ho ho. Who's the lucky fellow?”</p>
<p>“My roommate,” Brienne moaned, and Santa's hand clenched around her knee. </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Brienne said. “We're good friends and it's not right to be in love with your roommate, but he's... he's dumb in the same ways I am, and funny, and he's such an ass sometimes, but he makes it charming. He takes care of me when I need it, and even when I don't. And I can't tell him any of this, because I don't want to lose him if he doesn't feel the same.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. This may only be a mall Santa, but it felt good to let it all out. </p>
<p>Santa was utterly frozen underneath her and she shut her eyes, ashamed. He hadn't asked for the weight of her problems. Why couldn't she just have told him she wanted a necklace or a new bike? Something normal. </p>
<p>“You're in love with me?” </p>
<p>The words cut through Brienne's self-recrimination, through the piped-in Christmas music, through the sounds of children and shoppers, and her whole world went quiet. She opened her eyes and looked at Santa. Bright green eyes were staring back at her. Eyes that Brienne would know anywhere, above any fake beard. She was certain she'd know them in the dark. </p>
<p>
  <i>Oh, shit.</i>
</p>
<p>“Jaime?” she whispered. “<i>You're</i> Santa?”</p>
<p>“Just at the mall,” he said, sounding distracted. He was searching her face. “You didn't know it was me?”</p>
<p>Brienne shook her head, no. “I'm-- I'm sorry, I shouldn't--”</p>
<p>He held up one gloved hand and she went silent. “You were telling a random mall Santa how you felt about me? When were you going to tell <i>me</i>?”</p>
<p>“I hadn't really settled on that,” she said hoarsely. He was difficult to read sometimes, no more so than when she was flooded with emotion, and she couldn't tell at all what her declaration was doing to him now. </p>
<p>“Brienne, I--” He made a low, humming growl in his chest and then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in, kissing her fiercely. There was a lot more fluffy beard in this kiss than Brienne had anticipated when she'd allowed herself to imagine this moment, but it was Jaime's mouth against hers, his soft lips turned hard with want, certain other things pressed hard against her ass. His hand on her knee was like a vise, and she grabbed onto his arms to steady herself. It was nothing like she'd pictured and everything she'd wanted and she couldn't breathe; like she'd jumped down the chimney and been swallowed by the fire. </p>
<p>“Mommy, why is that lady kissing Santa?” filtered in through the blood roaring through her ears, through the sound of their lips and tongues, through the elated shouting of her heart that Jaime knew her feelings and he was still here and kissing her and not running away. </p>
<p>They broke apart, chests heaving, and Jaime slid his fingers to the hem of her shirt. The glove was ticklish where it touched her skin. They stared at each other; Jaime's mouth was cherry red under his snow white beard, color pinking his cheeks. Santa looked like he'd just gotten exactly what he wanted for Christmas. </p>
<p>“Did you really call me an ass while you were declaring your love for me?” </p>
<p>She flushed and then glared at him. “Did you really let me sit here and pour my heart out to you pretending to not be yourself?”</p>
<p>“How could you possibly not know it was me?” He seemed a bit hurt by that. </p>
<p>It was a fair question, though. Now that she was wrapped in his embrace, the smell and the sound and the feel of him were all so familiar that she wondered if perhaps some part of her had known all along and had led her down this path on purpose. God, had <i>Margaery</i> known? She glanced at her friend, who didn't look as smug about the whole thing as Brienne would have expected if she'd planned it. </p>
<p>“In my defense,” Brienne told Jaime, “the suit does add twenty years.” </p>
<p>“Wow,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Way to kick a man when he's down.” </p>
<p>“I'm not sure 'down' is the direction you're struggling with right now,” she said, and then gasped when his hand slid further up her thigh. She grabbed it, holding it in place. “There are kids here,” she reminded them both. </p>
<p>Jaime blinked, and she saw the focus come back to his eyes through the haze of desire. She regretted it a little; Brienne had been waiting a long time to see him look at her like that. “You're right,” he said, disappointed. “Don't want to traumatize the children.” </p>
<p>“You're already going to have to explain why you're cheating on Mrs. Claus,” she said on a dry laugh, and Jaime kissed her again, eagerly, as though he couldn't resist. She returned it with a helpless, overwhelming want. </p>
<p>The elf helper cleared her throat, a loud warning, and they parted again. </p>
<p>“Does Santa need a five minute break?” the elf asked archly. </p>
<p>Jaime grinned at Brienne. “Do you think five minutes would be enough?” </p>
<p>Her cheeks went hot, but she smiled back. “I hope not, or we're going to have to talk about Santa's endurance.” </p>
<p>He looked like he wanted to kiss her again, so she put her hand on his chest to hold him there. The fabric of his jacket was velvety soft, but the muscles underneath were anything but. Brienne bit back a whimper. </p>
<p>“I have another hour of work,” Jaime said. “And then I can meet you at home and we can pick up from here.” </p>
<p>“I'd like that,” she whispered. Had his eyes always gleamed like that? She felt them track all over her face, the weight of them as heavy as his fingertips against her skin. “You're... you're okay with this? With what I told you?” He had to be, didn't he? Roommates didn't kiss like they were starving. But she'd been fearing the worst for weeks; she needed to hear it. </p>
<p>His arm tightened around her back. “Do you know why I picked up this job?”</p>
<p>“To see what you'd look like as an old man?” </p>
<p>Jaime's grin was swift. “No. As you know, funds have been a lot tighter for me since I got cut off. I needed the extra money to buy your Christmas present this year. I was going to get you that necklace you point out every time we walk by the jewelry store, and then tell you how <i>I</i> felt about <i>you</i> and hope that you didn't throw me out of the apartment.” </p>
<p>“You were?” she squeaked. </p>
<p>“Brienne, I've been in love with you for...” He chuckled ruefully. “Way too long to have waited until now to tell you.” </p>
<p>“I know the feeling,” she murmured. Under his big white beard, she saw his tongue dart out and lick his lips. “I hope this doesn't awaken any weird fetishes in me,” she said. </p>
<p>Jaime laughed, loud and long, and Brienne felt it roll through her chest, to her heart, inviting her own laughter. She gave it to him willingly, like she always did. She dropped her forehead to his. </p>
<p>His laughter died out, and he rubbed her back again, just the way she liked. “You better go, before this gets any more inappropriate and they fire me. I'll see you at home,” he promised. </p>
<p>“Leave the costume here,” she told him. </p>
<p>“If you insist.” He kissed her nose and just as she was about to get up, he held her back a moment more. “Wait, we forgot to take a photo.” </p>
<p>Brienne glanced at the elf helper who looked both annoyed and amused by the entire thing. Margaery was standing at the table behind her, giving Brienne the world's cheesiest smile and two thumbs up. Brienne didn't usually like photos of herself, but this one seemed special.</p>
<p>“All right.” She shifted on Jaime's lap again to settle herself and he clamped his hands on her hips. </p>
<p>“Don't do that,” he begged, his voice reedy, and she didn't. Except for one last little roll that made him groan softly. </p>
<p>“Ready?” the elf helper asked. </p>
<p>“Ready,” Jaime said. He leaned forward to whisper in Brienne's ear, “Someone's going on my Naughty list,” just as the woman took the picture. </p>
<p>Brienne was certain she didn't want to see the look on her face in that photo. But there was no way Margaery was going to let her walk out without buying it. </p>
<p>Jaime squeezed Brienne's waist one last time and then she stood, staring down at him and smiling shyly. She'd never seen that light in his eyes before, the way it soothed and burned at the same time. She had a feeling she was about to learn a lot of new things about Jaime, even after all these years together. </p>
<p>She couldn't wait. </p>
<p>When she approached the table, the other elf helper there stared at her in shock, and Margaery grinned. Brienne ignored the incredibly loud way her friend was not saying <i>I told you so</i>.  </p>
<p>“Just let me see it,” Brienne said. She steeled herself and glanced at the photo out of the corner of her eye, and then blinked and looked closer. </p>
<p>Her face was as red as Jaime's Santa jacket, her mouth opening in the surprised laugh he'd shocked out of her. She definitely looked like a woman who'd just been caught kissing Santa Claus. But her eyes were shining with joy and a long-buried hope set alight – and so were Jaime's. </p>
<p>Brienne bought a wallet-sized version for herself, and one for him, and got it as an ornament, too. That night – after he'd returned home without the suit, after she'd gotten to see all of him without anything on at all – they hung it together on their tree. </p>
<p>“I'm not going away for Christmas this year,” he told her after, as they snuggled on the couch with a Yule Log video Jaime had put on the TV. </p>
<p>Brienne rubbed her chin over his shoulder. How many nights had they sat together on the couch and she'd wanted to do just this and gone to bed unfulfilled? Too many. She pressed her mouth to the curve of his neck. “Why not?” she asked. He shivered a little under her lips. </p>
<p>“Because,” he said softly, kissing her head. “I'm already home for the holidays.” </p>
<p><i>We both are</i>, she thought, burrowing further into his embrace.</p>
<p>“Brienne?” Jaime murmured. He sounded so sweet in her ear.  </p>
<p>“Mm?” </p>
<p>“I'm never going to let you forget you told Santa I was an ass, you know.” He sounded so smug.  </p>
<p>All she could do was sigh, happily resigned. “I know.” It was a small price to pay for this: her roommate, her friend, her beloved Jaime; here with her, home together, for the holidays – and the future.</p>
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